In the grand hierarchy of Irish life, there is a very specific type of grief reserved for the person who owns a “perfectly good” car.
You know the one. It’s likely a silver 2018 Corolla or a Hyundai Tucson that has never failed an NCT and has enough crumbs in the footwell to sustain a small colony of badgers. It is, by every objective metric of the Central Statistics Office, the sensible choice. It sips fuel like a timid guest at a wake, and it will probably outlive the current government.
But then, you pull into your neighbor’s driveway.
There stands Seamus, grinning like he’s just won the Lotto, leaning against a brand-new 2026 electric wonder-machine. It has more screens than a Paddy Power on Gold Cup day and can hit 100km/h faster than you can get one leg into your trousers. Suddenly, your reliable workhorse doesn’t look “sensible” anymore; it looks like a motorized butter tub.
The Irish car market is currently obsessed with the “Euro-box”—those efficient, silent, aerodynamic lozenges that promise to get you to work for the price of a chicken fillet roll. And look, there is no shame in a car that works. But there is a soul-crushing boredom in driving a vehicle that is so beige you occasionally forget where you parked it in the Lidl car park because it has effectively camouflaged itself against the pavement.
Life is simply too short for a car that doesn’t have a bit of “shtick.” We spend a massive portion of our lives stuck on the M50 or crawling through Gort; if that time is spent in a machine that provides zero joy, you aren’t just commuting—you’re doing penance.
Sure, the new tech might be “notions,” and yes, the PCP payments might make your credit union manager weep, but there is a visceral, vital difference between a transportation appliance and a machine that makes you look back over your shoulder when you lock the door.
We’ve reached a tipping point where EVs are outselling petrol, and the “boring” cars are becoming more efficient than ever. But efficiency is the enemy of the heart. If your car doesn’t make you feel like a pilot—or at least like you’re doing something more exciting than waiting for a kettle to boil—then it might be time to stop being sensible.
Because in Ireland, “grand” is the most dangerous word in the English language. Your car might be grand, but wouldn’t you rather it be spectacular?
